The Dragon Slave I Whipped is Now My King | Full Episode (ENGSUB) | Fantasy Romance Short Drama

Elena, est-ce qu'il y a beg? Two years ago, I was the arrogant saintess, and he was the dragon slave I whipped at my whim. Two years later, he awakens the imperial dragon blood and returns to the imperial capital. As the giant dragon dives to the earth, he transforms into a king of extraordinary elegance. His dark gold dragon pupils are locked firmly onto me, once his equal, now a disgraced slave of the clan, have fallen into the abyss beneath the altar. To save my father, I was forced to kneel at his feet and let him tear away my white robes, the very symbol of my sanctity. He laughed coldly, demanding I pleasure him to repay the debts of those two years.

He already has a perfect match by his side, yet he insists on taking it. Watching the madness of his possessive gaze, I press my hand against my stomach, where a faint draconic sigil flickered. The marked pulsing of the rhythmic cadence, the Holy Kingdom fell under a sudden monster assault. I found myself cornered in the black forest, trapped and suffocating under the weight of a dark malevolent curse. As my consciousness began to fracture, he appeared. He rode through the chaos. As he charged forward on horseback, I could have sworn I saw the spectral shimmer of dragon wings unfurl behind him, a broken sword in one hand, and a spear in the other, cutting a path to my side.

In my blurred vision, he looked breathtaking. That night, amidst a frantic soul resonance, I let myself cross the forbidden line with him. I think I might have actually fallen for him. I thought of him the moment I opened my eyes. I banished him once more to the most remote, crumbling tower of the estate. Before sending him to the tower was a triumph of my power. Now I found myself sneaking toward it just to catch a glimpse of him. He was right there in my temple, yet I was dying of an incurable heartache. Today was his 22nd birthday. I had spent hours baking a lemon tart with my own hands, wanting to give him a surprise. I wanted to tell him that he was going to be a father.

Two years ago in the arena, I bestowed upon him the name Shadow. He was but a flicker of darkness, easily erased. Now, that name has become my only longing. I reach the tower only to find my world collapsing. My shadow was gone. A massive dragon shadow reared its head, its wings sweeping across the ceiling. A blinding burst of molten gold erupted before my eyes, before shrinking and condensing into the form of a noble man. The slave had vanished, replaced by a prince radiating golden light. The rumors followed quickly. He already had a fiancé, a childhood match. Lady Isabella, the most brilliant woman in the empire. As soon as he returned to the capital, their grand wedding would begin.

My sanctuary had been transformed into a cage, surrounded by the cold steel of the paladins. The moment they spotted me, skulking in the shadows like a common thief, a royal guard lunged forward, pressing the frigid edge of a heavy greatsword against my throat. Neil, daughter of a traitor, how dare you stand in the presence of Prince Arthur? I looked past the blade of the man in the center of the crowd. The ragged, homespun foes were gone. In their place was a magnificent robe of blackened gold. Risking execution, I reached out with trembling fingers, desperately trying to catch his hand.

A low, rhythmic vibration pumped in the air as glowing embers of dragon fire drifted from the golden embroidery of his robes. Are you truly the crown prince? Tell me, Miss Vivian, how do you plan to torture me today? Will it be the jeweled whip or shall I feel the weight of your dancing shoes again? Once I return to the capital, I will send the official documents to sever our contract. A woman from this wretched holy kingdom has no place beside my throne. My eyes burned with unshed tears. I hadn't come to hurt him. I had come to celebrate his birth. To tell him that I was carrying his children. But even my touch was a stain to him now. I finally understood the brutal reality. He loathed me.

He would never want me. And he would certainly never want the bastards in my womb. Even if they carried his own dragon blood. I shielded the faint yet searing spark of dragon blood within me. Standing amidst the hallowed ruins in utter despair. I wanted to tell him that I would give up everything. I would follow him to the capital as a lowly handmaid. Anything just to stay by his side. But to him, my very touch was a defilement. The deposition decree, sealed with the dragon crest, had severed our contract forever. At eighteen, I had fallen from the adored saintess to a prisoner abandoned by the gods. I finally woke up from the dream. Arthur hated me.

He would go on to marry the pure-blooded Lady Isabella and father noble dragon heirs. To him. Do you have any final prayers, Miss Vivian? He looked down at me as if I were a speck of dust. I had wanted to beg him to taste the lemon tart I baked with my own hands. But seeing the frost in his eyes, golden scales erupted across his skin as the air ignited with his draconic aura. With a mocking smear, his body shifted and expanded in a blinding flash of light, transforming into a massive dragon. The gale from his wings slamming me violently so that the sink sat frozen in the ice until a sharp searing pain tore through my abdomen, nearly causing me to lose the child.

Watching the fading silhouette in the sky, I clutched my stomach where a faint dragon mark pulsed, beating rhythmically like a second heart. Disaster struck. Three days. After Arthur's departure, my father, the Holy Father, was branded with the twin sins of treason and black magic. Then cast into the darkest depths of the abyss prison, I rushed to the capital, desperate and breathless, only to be met with a death sentence. He was to face the trial of Holy Fire on the night of the next full moon. Inside the stench-ridden dungeon, my mother's withered hand gripped mine with terrifying strength. Elena, you must go to Prince Arthur. You must go to your shadow.

You swore vows before the dragon god. You are high on only contract holder. He cannot simply watch us die. Her words cut through my leg as a raided Vlad, but he couldn't find the voice to answer. How could I admit that during those two years of shadow, I had forced him into the freezing depths of the holy lake just to retrieve a lost jewel for my amusement? How could I confess that? In fits of rage, I had left scars upon his back that would never heal. He likely wanted to see my family reduced to ash more than anyone else in the world. But looking at the last flickering spark of hope in my mother's eyes, I forced myself to move.

I picked up the ruby-encrusted whip, the very symbol of my former tyranny, and dragged my trembling body to the crown prince's palace. There, before the towering obsidian iron gates, I fell to my knees and waited. Back in the Holy Kingdom, a single command from my lips was enough to make shadow crawl to my feet. If I wanted him to bow, he never dared to meet my eyes. But now, the tables had turned with a cruel irony. To see him for even a moment, I had to kneel in the teeth of a blizzard, begging a shred of mercy. I knelt until I lost all feeling in my legs, the ruby whip in my hands, buried under a thick shroud of snow. Just as dawn threatened to break, a dragon's roar shattered the clouds.

The black wings eclipsed the dawn as he dived, or in the instant they struck the earth. From the heart of the erupting snow, Arthur emerged in human form, breaking through the mist. The crunch of his boots against the frozen ground echoed the frantic beating of my heart. His cold, indifferent gaze lingered for a moment on the whip I held. Tell me, Miss Vivian, which hand was it? Which hand did you use to leave those scars on my body? His voice held no warmth, only the crushing weight of a judge passing sentence. I was so frozen, I could barely breathe. Before I could find my voice, my strength failed me. My knees buckled and I collapsed forward, falling directly into his arms.

His chest was burning hot, a searing contrast to the ice. The heat instantly triggered the memory of our night of soul resonance, the way he had pinned me against the altar with predatory hunger. My eyes welled with bitter tears. Your Highness, please save my father. His pupils narrowed into golden vertical slits, and a faint rhythmic flow of molten fire pulsed beneath the skin of his throat. So, you strip your defenses bare before me just to save that old man? Very well. I have been dying to see just how much the High and Holy Princess has learned about the art of submission. Before I could gasp, he hoisted me over his shoulder.

Ignoring my cry of protest, he strode ruthlessly through the gallery and hurled me onto the strong bed draped in black fox fur. The air ignited with the violent scent of the dragon kin. As my ornate cloak slid away, my skin shivered against the biting chill. Arthur descended like a predator, his massive frame pinning me down, swallowing me whole within his territory. One hand, cold as iron, clamped my wrists above my head. Elena, every agony you put me through over these last two years, I am going to repay it, inch by inch, upon this bed. Phantasmus wings spread wide, bathing within the suffocating golden blue.

The air crackled in the middle of ancient dragon fire, as the crushing weight of his aura sealed the room. I shielded my womb with a trembling hand, protecting the fragile life within as I... He threw me onto the black fox furs with such violence that a sharp pain flared through my lower back. Under the weight of his suffocating draconic aura, I flashed off my old, haughty temper flared. My hand instinctively reached it for me, ruby-encrusted disciplinary whip. In the next heartbeat, Arthur ruthlessly shredded my inner robes. He curled his lips into a mocking sneer. His eyes filled with the cold, unreachable detachment. Is this your idea of us leaving this way?

The whip slipped from my numb fingers, clattering, easelessly to the floor. His gaze was lickier, frozen well, threatening to turn me very soltois. For the thousandth time, virality crashed down upon me. He was no longer the slave I could trample at will. He was a dragon king who crushed my entire bloodline with the lick of his fingers. Pleasing me is your only task. If you can satisfy me, perhaps I will show mercy and grant that old man Bernard a chance to live. Pleasing him, a wave of bitterness washed over me. I looked down at Miss Till, flat abdomen, my heart clenching in fear. Ever since, a day here claimed his throne, I had been spotting blood.

The physician had warned that that the dragon bloodline was too powerful. My pregnancy was fragile. I was terrified of the bleeding. I was even more terrified of losing the tiny life already, flickering with a dragon's breath inside me. Are you truly that unwilling? He let out a derisive snort, his eyes flickering with pure disdain. I have no interest in forcing anyone. Since the great saint despises her purity so highly, you can simply wait until the next full moon. Then you can collect Bernard's charred remains from the altar of holy fire. He tossed the shredded remnants of my sacred robes onto the floor like trash and turned to leave.

Throwing my pride to the wind, I lunged forward and threw my arms around him from behind. I had been spoiled my entire life. I had never bowed to anyone. I was terrified of losing the babies, but I was more terrified of my father's execution. I forced back my tears, my voice trembling. Arthur stood with his back to me, letting out a laugh that was bone-chillingly cold. I couldn't see his face, but the frost radiating from him was suffocating. To save a life, I had to mimic the clumsy movements of a dancing girl. I reached out with shaking hands to touch him, eventually forcing myself onto my tiptoes to press a desperate, humiliating kiss against his lips.

Is this all the saintess is capable of? I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. My mind flashed back to that night of chaotic soul resonance. Back then, though he was wild, he had kissed away my tears and whispered gentle comforts into my ear. The Arthur standing here now didn't want to comfort me. He wanted to watch me break. Get away from me! He growled the command. The volatile temper and searing heat unique to the dragon race exploded in an instant, shattering his fragile self-control. I tried to recoil in fear, but instead of pushing me away, his arm clamped around my waist like an iron vice, pinning me ruthlessly against the edge of the bed.

He seized control, his kiss so violent I thought he would crush my lips. I struggled for air as the kiss grew more feral, a desperate clash of hatred and hunger. My clothes were reduced to threads. I felt like a fallen leaf adrift on a violent sea, swaying and drowning in the tidal wave of his draconic lust. When the first light of dawn filtered through the windows, I drifted back to consciousness. Arthur was already fully dressed in his black and gold princely regalia, looking cold and peerless once more. Your Highness, last night I did what you asked. You'll save my father now, won't you?

Arthur adjusted the dragon scale cufflinks at his wrists, offering a chilling laugh without even bothering to look back. When exactly did I say that sleeping with me once would guarantee a pardon for a traitor? My eyes snapped open. Every bone in my body felt as though it had been ground to dust, but the pain in my heart was far worse. you... Besides, do you really think a body as broken as yours is enough to satisfy me? I felt as though I had been plunged into an abyss of ice. He never intended to save anyone. This was nothing but cold-blooded retaliation, the cruelest way possible to humiliate me for the two years I spent trampling on his dignity.

The air felt thin, the weight of his betrayal suffocating me. Arthur, I'm begging you, please, save my father. He didn't spare me even a fleeting glance. Shrouded in a frost that cut like a blade, he strode away without looking back. Like a hollow shell of a human being, I numbly gathered the shredded remnants of my clothes and draped them over my battered body. I began the long, agonizing trek out of the palace, but as I reached the end of the corridor, I collided with a radiant procession. At the head of the group stood a woman in a vibrant imperial gown trimmed with gold, her elegance as sharp as her status. It was Isabella, the Duke's most beloved daughter.

She was the woman Arthur had personally chosen as his crown princess upon his return to the throne. The Saintress? I must say, I never expected to find you in the prince's private chambers in such a state. It seems his highness's mercy hasn't taught you anything about dignity. I gripped my collar so hard my nails bit into my palms. I wanted to scream to fight back, but a sudden wave of weakness from my abdomen stopped me. My children, my only remaining secret would be lost forever. Isabella was breathtaking. She possessed an innate regal air that only comes from a lifetime spent at the pinnacle of power, making me feel a sudden stinging sense of inferiority.

So you're that common girl Arthur used for diversion back in the holy kingdom? It wasn't a diversion. We exchanged the vows of the rose before the gods. He was my sworn knight. Vows? Those archaic rituals mean less than nothing to a crown prince. I've heard stories of how cruelly you treated him. Now that he's reclaimed his throne, you've come crawling back to beg for mercy. How could a man like Arthur ever truly want a woman with a heart as poisonous as yours? She stepped closer, her voice dripping with the arrogance of a benefactor. If you're truly that desperate to stay in the capital, I might allow him to keep you after our wedding as an unmarked mistress, a private pet with no name.

The insult burned through my veins, but I didn't want to be anyone's secret pet. Even if my heart had begun to waver, I knew one thing for certain. If he chose to marry another, I would never linger for a single second. As I stepped out of the crown prince's estate, the scorching sun felt like a physical assault, making my eyes sting. The truth was a cold, hard weight in my chest. Arthur hated me. He had no intention of saving my father. He only wanted to watch me spiral into the abyss until there was nothing left of me. Miss Elena. I hurriedly wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes, looking up to see Christopher. He had once been a common scholar sponsored by my father.

Two years ago, during that faithful ceremony, he had been my first choice for a knight. But through a cruel twist of fate, I had chosen Arthur instead. Now, Christopher had climbed the ranks to become the chief executive of the Imperial Tribunal. Lord Christopher, my father was framed. He stared at me with a fixed intensity that made my skin crawl. The naked greed in his eyes was nauseating. He had already secured his future by marrying the High Justice's daughter, carving a path to the heights of power. Now, he was looking at me as if I were a prize to be collected, a secret lover to be kept in the shadows of his perfect life. I will purchase a secluded manor for you.

You will live there, and when the timing is right, I'll arrange for you to be appointed as a chamber attendant. It's the perfect way to keep you under my protection without raising eyeballs. My father gave you everything. He funded your education and your rise to power. Is your sense of honor so easily swallowed by greed? I struggled to keep the fury from my voice, my body trembling with a mixture of rage and exhaustion. Christopher let out a sharp, derisive laugh, his eyes scanning me with a terrifying lack of shame. I have plenty of gold now. What I lack is a plaything like you so holy yet so utterly ruined. I know you spent two years with the crown prince, but his wedding is imminent.

He's done with you. If you won't look Bernard to stay alive, you have no other choice. You belong to me now. I didn't even have the chance to retort. A sudden, violent wave of nausea surged from my stomach, and I doubled over, dry heaving right in front of him. Christopher's face instantly twisted into a blue shade of purple. He had expected tears, or perhaps a desperate surrender, pulsed by his touch, that I would be sick on the spot. Christopher was clearly stunned by my physical repulsion. The mask of a refined gentleman shattered, leaving behind a gaze so dark and venomous, it chilled my blood. The fake warmth in his voice died instantly, replaced by a low, predatory snarl.

Do not test my patience, Elena. I control the imperial tribunal now. If I want that old man dead, he won't even survive long enough to see the holy fire next month. I'll give you two days. If I don't see you at my manor on the south side of the city by then, you might as well start picking out a burial plot for your father. He turned on his heel and stormed away in a fit of humiliated rage, leaving me to tremble alone in the biting wind. My heart felt like a lead weight sinking into an abyss. People always whispered that scholars were the most virtuous among us, but in reality, the most wretched souls are often those hidden behind tailored suits and polite smiles.

My family was still wealthy. Even after spending a fortune to save my father, what remained could sustain us for generations. My mother had already secured a secluded safe house on the outskirts of the capital. I dragged my battered body, feeling as though it had been trampled by a carriage, and began the long, numb walk back to that hollow substitute for a home. I had a younger brother, Julian, who was two years my junior. Unlike me, who grew dizzy at the mere sight of ancient texts, he was a natural-born arcanist. By the age of five, he could already decipher forbidden runes.

Upon hearing of our family's downfall, he had rushed from the arcane academy to the capital, his face pale with worry. Crushed and defeated, I dragged my feet down the endless corridor and with a trembling, uncertain hand, pushed open the massive door. What did he say? Did Prince Arthur, did Shadow agree to save your father? My brother-in-law is the crown prince now. He'll help us, won't he? He has to. I looked at the flickering sparks of hope in their eyes, and my throat burned as if I had swallowed hot coals. Worse, I couldn't bring myself to describe the previous night, how Arthur had pinned me to those luxurious black fox furs, claiming my body with a brutal hunger. He wasn't our savior.

He was a man who took pleasure in my ruin, a man who wanted to watch me drown in this hopeless mire until the last breath left my lungs. I couldn't bear to shatter the fragile hope in my mother's and Julian's eyes, but with my father's life on the line, I didn't dare weave a lie. My voice cracked as the cold reality spilled out. He refused. Arthur hates me more than you can imagine. Those two years of torment turned his heart into a block of ice. I've brought this upon our family. It's my fault that father is in that cage. My mother pulled me into a fierce, trembling embrace. Her scent of lavender and old books a brief comfort against the storm.

You are the most

precious jewel of the Vivian family. If this is truly Bernard's trial, then it is a judgment of fate itself. You will not chain yourself to a guilt that isn't yours to bear. She's right. You've done nothing wrong, Elena. It's that cold-blooded prince who is blind. You deserve the purest devotion this world has to offer, not his cruelty. Listening to them, a wave of bitter sorrow washed over me. The House of Vivian had once been the glorious pillar of the Holy Kingdom, a name spoken with reverence and awe. Now the proud saint has had finally learned how to bow her head. I no longer prayed for glory or power. I only prayed that those I loved might survive the winter.

Elena, mother told me you're pregnant. Go back to your room and rest. I'm 16 now. I can carry this family's weight. Trust me. I will bring father home. I looked at the young man standing before me, his shoulders broad and his gaze steady. The little boy who used to trail behind me, crying over scraped knees, had truly grown up. I offered a few soft words of caution before retreating to my room. But the dull, persistent ache in my womb kept me tossing and turning in a feverish unrest. Hours later, I stepped out into the hallway and froze. There stood Julian. But he was unrecognizable.

He had changed into a garish flamboyant suit of shimmering silks with an oversized ruby pendant dangling against his chest. Julian, what are you dressed like? I heard Duchess Audley has a weakness for collecting exquisite young men. I'm going to her estate to offer myself. If she takes me as her pet, even the crown prince will have to show her some respect. That's how I'll save father. My heart stopped. Julian was a once-in-a-century genius at the Arcane Academy. I couldn't let him sell his soul. Panic surged through me as I tricked him into the wine cellar and slam the heavy iron door, locking it tight. I'm just a plaything. I couldn't let my brother destroy his future and his dignity.

The thought of Julian, a brilliant prodigy, rotting away as a noblewoman's plaything was a nightmare I wouldn't allow to come true. Begging Arthur again was a dead end. It would only invite more humiliation and perhaps even ignite his lethal temper. That left Christopher, the hypocritical viper, as much as I loathe the idea of becoming his caged bird. It seemed the path had narrowed until there was nowhere left to run. As night fell, I carried a single flickering magic lamp and crept toward Christopher's secret villa on the south side of the city. I spent the entire journey numbing my mind, whispering to myself that this was merely a sacrifice.

I told myself, it would be like being bitten by a wild beast. Painful, yes, but something I could endure if I just closed my eyes. The moment I stepped into that dim, oppressive bedroom and saw Christopher unfastening his outer robe, my stomach churned with violent revulsion. Miss Vivian, I have waited two long years for this day. He undid the silver clasps at his collar, his smile thick with a sticky predatory mouth. From this moment on, you are my private property. Now come here, help me undress. My body is rigid as stone. Not used to this yet? Don't worry, I'll spend the rest of the night teaching you exactly how to serve me.

Christopher shed his hypocritical priestly robes, his eyes gleaming with a feverish light. Tonight, we finally celebrate our sacred union, two years late. He advanced toward me, one predatory step at a time. Despite the biting cold of the room, my palms were slit with a cold sweat. I realized in that moment that I couldn't endure his proximity. The sensation was visceral, like a slimy serpent slithering up my ankle. Cold and suffocating. A sickly, distorted desire burned in his gaze. He lunged forward, his hands clamping around my waist like iron shackle as he tried to bury his face in the hook of my neck. The scent of yours, it's enough to drive a man mad. Stop! Christopher, listen to me.

I will give you every coin in the Vivian family bolts. Just save my father and let me go. I don't want your filthy gold, Elena. I want you! His face twisted into a mask of pure malice as he shoved me backward onto the black velvet shade. He began to tear up my sacred robes with a frantic, desperate violence. Go ahead, keep fighting me. If you do, I'll make sure Bernard is dead. Before the sun rises tomorrow! Arthur was a man of violence, but when he touched me, there was a part of my soul that didn't recoil. Here, pinned under Christopher, I felt only a bone-deep revulsion. Ever since I saw you standing so high above everyone two years ago, I've dreamt of dragging you into the mud.

Tonight, I finally get what I've always deserved. I first met Christopher when I was still young. No one could have ever guessed that behind his gentle, refined demeanor hid a dark and twisted heart. He leaned close to my neck, his every word laced with chilling, hidden malice that sent shivers down my spine. To tell you the truth, Elena, I orchestrated everything. Bernard's downfall, the treason, the trial, it was all my design. My eyes snapped wide as the horror of his confession sank in. He funded your education. He gave you a future. How could you betray the man who saved you? If he hadn't gone to prison, would you be here now, kneeling and begging for my favor? No.

So be a good girl and please me. I have the power to make your father's life a living hell and I can just as easily destroy your mother and Julian. The sheer cruelty of it left me gasping. I wanted nothing more than to kill him and myself in a single stroke of vengeance. He held my every weakness in his hand. No matter how much my soul screamed in protest, I was trapped, forced to shiver and endure beneath him. Now, kiss me. He ruthlessly tore open my inner robes. The sudden bite of the cold air stung my exposed skin. I couldn't stop shaking and as his face descended toward mine, a wave of visceral, physical revulsion took hold. Every ounce of strength I had left, I shoved him away.

Christopher's mask of civility shattered into a hundred jagged pieces. His patience had run dry and he pinned me against the edge of the sheds with a terrifying heavy weight. Keep shouting, Elena, but for every word you scream, I'll have a piece of Bernard's flesh carved away. I went silent instantly, the sound of my own teeth grinding together echoing in my skull. To save my father from the torture rack, I could only close my eyes in absolute despair, just as I prepared to bite my own tongue and end it all. The heavy oak doors of the bedchamber were obliterated, kicked inward with a force that shook the foundations of the villa. It was Arthur.

Christopher stood paralyzed, his eyes wide with disbelief. He never imagined the crown prince would descend upon this secret sanctuary. Panicked, he scrambled to clutch his discarded robes, his face draining of color. As the temperature in the room plummeted, Arthur approached with a terrifying, predatory calm. Your Highness, I do not understand why you would strike me. Since when is it a crime to enjoy a midnight thrisk with one's own lover? Lover. Since when is it a crime to enjoy a midnight thrisk with one's own? Arthur rained down low after brutal low until Christopher lay her widening pool of blood. I have not yet signed the decree of abdulation. Until I do, she belongs to me.

You dare to touch what is mine, and for that, you will die! Between the sheer terror of the night and the gnawing dread for my father's life, the fragile dam of my emotions finally broke. My pregnancy had made me volatile, and now, the tears fell in a relentless, silent torrent that I couldn't stop. Arthur reached out, his arms snaking around me like an iron band to haul me into his chest. Seeing my face streaked with tears, the darkness in his eyes didn't soften. Instead, his fury seemed to congeal into something even more lethal. Do you love him that much? Love him that much! Does it break your heart that I interrupted your little trisk?

You actually degraded yourself to this point for a piece of filth like him! When had I ever shown an ounce of affection for Christopher? The man was a monster, yet here was Arthur, twisting my desperation into a betrayal. But I didn't dare fight back. I couldn't risk my father bearing the brunt of a crown prince's lightning strike rage. I could only bury my face against his chest, my body shaking with muffled, agonizing sobs. Is being with me such a miserable fate, Elena? Well, weep all you want. It doesn't change a thing. You're coming back to the palace with me, where you belong.

Arthur tossed me into his massive war chariot, pulled by snarling drakes, as if I were nothing more than a conquest claimed on a battlefield. I had no hope of escape. Within the hour, I was back in the palace, thrown once again onto the suffocating black fox furs of his bed. I curled into a ball, my eyes red and swollen, rubbing the small of my back where the impact had left a dull, throbbing ache. His voice was a low, terrifying rumble, cold as a mountain grave. He pressed his callous thumb against my lips, rubbing them with a punishing force that threatened to draw blood. Did he kiss you here? I won't stay. I won't be your secret pet. You think you're worthy of being my mistress?

Don't flatter yourself. Let me make this clear, Elena. Until the day I choose to discard you, if you ever dare to shame me with another man again, I will personally ensure you never draw another breath. I stared at Arthur, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. His heterochromatic eyes were threaded with dark red veins, and the draconic aura swirling around him was so suffocating, it felt as though he had just clawed his way out of the deepest pits of hell. Looking at the sheer madness in his expression, I knew, with terrifying certainty, if I admitted that Christopher's lips even brushed mine, he would cut my lips away without a second thought.

In truth, Christopher hadn't touched me. I should have been paralyzed by fear, but every nerve in my body was screaming in pain and exhaustion. I couldn't help but lash out. What's your business? You're that desperate to escape me, Vivian. You torture me. You humiliate me. Isn't this exact on your shoulders? I crushed your pride. So take my hand you want. You promised to save him. Arthur remained silent as he reached down to retrieve the heavy jewel-encrusted whip. I couldn't help the violent flinch that wracked my body. I had wielded this very weapon countless times, but I was naturally frail. My strikes had barely left a red mark on his skin. Arthur was different.

He possessed the terrifying raw strength of the dragon race. If he struck me once with that whip, I would shatter. I forced my spine to straighten and close my eyes, waiting for the end. After I'm gone, would you place a bouquet? of fresh roses. I'm afraid of the cold. A woman from this wretched holy kingdom has no place beside my throne. He didn't swing the whip. Instead, he lunged forward, his searing fingers clamping around my slender waist like iron bands. Is my touch really that repulsing to you? Well, too bad. Tonight, I'm taking exactly what I want. His lips crashed against mine, fueled by a scorching, desperate rage.

In the chaos of the kiss, a memory of my birthday last year surfaced. He was still my shadow then. He had spent weeks carving a wooden statuette of me, a perfect miniature saintess. When I saw the gift, my heart had hammered so wildly, I had accused him of placing a curse on me. I punished him, forcing him to kneel shirtless on the cold temple floor, while I used cold ink to paint a massive, ridiculous creature across his broad back. His ears had turned a deep, burning crimson. I thought it was humiliation, so I insolently grabbed his ear to make him turn around. But as he moved, I lost my balance and our lips met.

That kiss had been clumsy, hurt broken pleas, begging me to let him kiss me just once more. My shadow had been so kind then. No matter how I shamed him, he would have handed me the entire world on a silver platter just to see me smile. But the Arthur of today only knew how to bully me, how to make me hurt. As he ruthlessly tore away my silk inner robes, the tears I had fought so hard to suppress finally broke through the dam once again. They cascaded down my cheeks, hot and bitter, slashing against the side of his face. Arthur's movements froze instantly. He remained motionless, his hand still white-knuckled around a shred of the ruined silk. Is my touch so unbearable?

He let out a sharp, guttural sound of disgust and shoved me aside like a discarded rag. Before I could even shiver, he grabbed a heavy black fox fur blanket and wrapped it around me. That piece of filth, Christopher, already has a wife, the High Justice's own daughter. And yet here you are, playing the martyr, preserving your purity. To Venice's, your controls no purity for him. You really are a devoted fool, Miss Vivian. He stood up, his eyes flashing with a final, cutting spark of disdain. Don't flatter yourself. You aren't the only woman in the world. I don't need you.

He turned and strode out of the chamber, the massive oak door slamming shut with a thunderous crash that echoed through the hollow silence of my heart. I wept until my throat was raw and only then did the dull, throbbing ache in my womb begin to subside. I was desperate to go home, to save my father, to stop Julian from selling his soul for a scrap of influence. But the world outside had vanished. Arthur had placed me under house arrest. I knew his game. He wanted to break me slowly. He wanted to watch the once-haughty saintess rot in a gilded cage until there was nothing left of my pride. For seven days, Arthur never showed his face. Instead, he sent a flock of handmaids to tend to me.

They were meticulously attentive, yet their voices were venomous. I think he'd keep a broken doll. His Highness gifted Lady Isabella the legendary Starry Night necklace. The prince and the duke's daughter are inseparable at the royal hunting grounds. They look so perfect together. Every day they made sure I heard the rumors of Arthur's devotion to Isabella. each word cut deeper than any whip. I loathed being a caged bird. But my true terror was the fear that the next time I saw my father, he would be a corpse. On the eighth day of my imprisonment, the heavy doors finally groaned open. A silhouette draped in black and gold stepped through the threshold, bringing with him a rush of winter air.

Arthur had returned. Arthur, you bastard! The days of isolation had driven me to the brink of madness. I snatched up the ruby-encrusted whip trying to shield my vulnerability behind a pathetic empty threat. Bernard is still alive. The air rushed back into my lungs. My father was safe, at least for now. But as the panic receded, a different kind of poison took its place. I remembered the maid's whispers, stories of how he had spent the last few nights locked away with Isabella, lost in a passion that lasted until dawn. The jealousy was a sudden, searing heat. When he had taken me, he hadn't shown half that much endurance. He was spending so much time entangled with that duke's daughter.

I wondered if he was trying to drain every drop of his royal blood dry. Are you so desperate to run back to Christopher? To wallow in the dirt as his caged bird keep dreaming? I just refuse to stay near a man who belongs to Isabella. In a fit of blind rage, I lunged at him and sank my teeth into his shoulder. Vivian, stop! Are you truly in such a hurry to bury your father? I stopped struggling, but the air between us was thick with loathing. I backed away, slammed the door shut, and turned the lock of the door, then staring him straight in the eyes sacred robes. Elena, stop. Put your clothes back on! His breath hitched, but I wouldn't be swayed by his feigned restraint.

You want your revenge? Then take it! Do to me exactly what I did to you two years ago. Press your boot into my shoulder. Draw those ridiculous, mocking creatures on my skin. Burn me with your humiliation! My voice broke into a pathetic, desperate sob as I looked at him through a blur of tears. I'm begging you, just finish your revenge and save my father. You swore an oath of loyalty to him before the altar. For the sake of that one vow, please help him. Arthur stood like a statue, his expression unreadable and frozen. The silence was deafening. I realized then that my words weren't enough, my tears weren't enough. I know what you want.

You're still angry about that winter, about how I forced you into the frozen lake. Well, it's winter again. I'll go. I'll jump into the ice in the back garden and catch every single one of those damn fish for you. I remembered that day vividly. The snow had been blinding and he had been practicing his sword play in the courtyard. I had been in a foul mood, agitated by the sight of his bare, powerful torso. I had mocked him, my voice dripping with disdain. If you're really as strong as you look, why don't you dive into the lake and bring me a snack? I hadn't expected him to do it, but without a word, he had plunged into the bone-chilling waters of the sacred lake.

I spun around and bolted toward the door. Vivian, have you lost your mind? Where do you think you're going dressed like that? Whether a filthy woman like me lives or dies, what is it to you? None of my business. Elena, I'm going to make sure you never forget exactly who I am! The predatory glint in his eyes was a... I am Arthur, your sworn knight. He descended upon me like a wolf. And I am your lawful husband. His teeth raising my lips with a kiss that felt more like a claim of territory. You bastard! You aren't human! But the more I struggled, the more his possessiveness spiraled into a feverish madness. I hurled every curse I knew at him.

Even as the world began to blur into a dizzying, unwanted pleasure, I wanted him to feel my hatred even if my body was betraying me in his arms. I felt my life force draining away like sand through an hourglass as he pinned me to the bed once more, claiming me with a desperate crushing intensity. A sharp, tearing agony exploded deep within my abdomen. It was as if a blade had been twisted inside me. I collapsed into the black fox furs, a rose severed from its stem, and the world dissolved into a hollow, silent void. Helena.

Helena.

Was that panic in his voice? It felt almost comedic. Didn't he want to cast this beautiful witch into the fires of purgatory? In the final second before the darkness swallowed me whole, I felt a pair of searing, calloused hands trembling as they pulled me tight against a racing heart. When I finally drifted back to consciousness, the heavy velvet curtains had been drawn, sealing out the daylight. The chamber was thick with the bitter, cloying scent of medicinal herbs and the metallic tang of holy water. From beyond the veil of the bed curtains, I heard Arthur's voice, a low, dangerous growl vibrating with suppressed fury. Why isn't she awake yet?

Your Highness, Miss Vivian's spirit was already fragile after the physical trauma. She is showing signs of a miscarriage. If it weren't for the powerful dragon bloodline within the fetus, fighting to survive, the hatchling would have already been lost. A hatchling. Signs of a miscarriage. A bitter, self-deprecating smile touched my lips. My little dragon was still there. It was far more resilient than I had imagined, but within seconds. A bone-chilling dread washed over me. Arthur knew. He knew that within me, a secret was growing. A secret the temple would never allow to exist.

In an empire where blood purity was everything, the bastard of a fallen Saintess would likely never be given the chance to draw his first breath. in a surge of sheer panic, my hand struck the wooden bed frame with a sharp crack at the sound. Arthur pulled back the heavy velvet curtains. He sat beside me, his face a mask of cold stone. I instinctively recoiled into the corner of the bed, desperate for a shred of safety. I knew the protocol of the empire. If I hadn't woken up, I might have already ordered the priest to prepare a purification draft to erase the evidence of my shame. Arthur gripped my hand with bruising force, his voice devoid of warmth. Are you still in pain? Mind race.

Should I tell the truth? Physical ache had mostly subsided. I knew he lived for my suffering. If I told him I was in agony, perhaps his thirst for vengeance would be satisfied. Yes. It hurts. Terrified that he would force the draft down my throat right then, I scrambled to reassure him. You don't have to worry. I would never use this child to trap you or force you. Just let me go. Once I return to my family lands, I'll deal with it myself. I'll make sure it's gone. A lie that tasted like ash. I loved my little dragon already, but I needed him to believe I was no threat to his future. Deal with it? You're truly that eager to get rid of these two children. Two? I was stunned into silence.

Dragon twins were a miracle, a rarity whispered of in legends. It meant I was carrying a double dragon pulse. My resolve to protect them hardened instantly, but I forced my voice to stay cold. Yes, I don't want them. I'd rather die than have them. I'll brew two bowls of the draft and wipe them from existence. I glanced at the priest standing in the shadows. They weren't moving to help. Instead, they were visibly trembling in terror. You really are heartless, Elena. He shoved my hand away and stormed out, his cloak swirling like a dark cloud. I shouted after him, my voice cracking with desperation. If two bowls aren't enough, I'll drink ten! Arthur vanished again for several days.

I was forced to listen to the maids gossiping in the hallways, their whispers like jagged glass. They said he spent every waking and sleeping, hour, in Isabella's chambers. Rumor had it that once the dragon bloodline awakened, the host possessed a terrifying, near-limitless stamina. He and the Duke's daughter were reportedly lost in each other's embrace, until the break of every dawn. A bitter wave of sorrow crashed over me. I assumed he found the idea of having children with a twisted woman, like me, repulsive, leading him to seek solace in someone pure. I pitied his burden, yet the ache in my own chest only grew more hollow. To my absolute shock, a summons arrived.

The emperor and empress demanded an audience with me. before Arthur reclaimed his throne, the highest authority I had ever encountered was a local provincial lord. To be called before the absolute rulers of the empire was terrifying. I was certain they intended to put me on trial for the crime of desecrating the crown prince. The imperial couple was legendary for their sole covenant. The emperor had married a commoner when he was nothing more than a minor noble, and they had remained devoted to one another ever since. After Arthur disappeared at age six, the empress was so devastated by grief and injury that she could never bear another child. Their love for Arthur was boundless.

And then there was me, the witch who had tormented their precious, long-lost son. I felt certain that if I wasn't sent straight to the pyre, it would be a miracle. The imperial palace was a fortress of limestone and gold looming over me with a heavy sacred weight. Every footstep echoed against the marble, amplifying my dread. I kept my head bowed, trembling, until a pair of silk slippers appeared in my vision. When I looked up, I saw a woman of such timeless beauty. She looked less like Arthur's mother, and more like an elder sister. She reached out and personally helped me to my feet. I held my breath, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Was she inspecting my skin to decide which torture would be most effective? Was she looking for the mark of the witch? You are breathtaking. Even more beautiful than the way Arthur described you. I heard that when he was a lost nine-year-old wandering the wilderness, you were the one who gave him the hope to keep living. Is that true? I froze, completely blindsided. I had no memory of saving a prince. When I was nine, I had slipped away from the temple to explore. I found a starving, filthy beggar boy collapsed by the roadside. I had simply tossed him a high-grade healing pill and a heavy pouch of gold coins.

I only gave him the gold because the coins were weighing down my dress and I wanted to be rid of them. It was a casual gesture to a stranger. It wasn't until two years ago, in the stench of a blood-soaked gladiator pit, that I recognized those striking, mismatched eyes again. I bought him for a single gold coin just so I wouldn't have to watch him rot in the mud. I don't understand why they're making such a fuss. I only gave him some gold I was planning to throw away. Such a good child. Without another word, she carefully removed a shimmering mithril amulet from her own neck, an artifact pulsing with divine light, and placed it gently in my open.

The empress spent hours speaking with me, her voice a gentle lilt, as she asked about my past with Arthur at the temple. Cold sweat trickled down my face. How could I possibly confess the truth? How could I tell her that I had once punished him by making him kneel shirtless on freezing stone steps? Or that I had branded his chest with the word shadow, a title of absolute desecration? I could only offer pale, hollow lies, claiming we had lived as the closest of companions. When I returned to the crown prince's estate, I was greeted by an overwhelming display of favor. Carts filled with rare medicinal tonics, and bolts of the finest silk were being unloaded into my side hall.

The empress had even promised to visit me personally in the coming days. My mind was a whirlwind of confusion. Arthur loathed me. Why then had he told his parents I was his savior? But I ran out of time to wonder. The doors to the chambers were thrown open by Arthur's head guard. In his hands, he carried a porcelain bowl filled with a black, steaming liquid that smelled of death. It was the purification draft. His highness's orders. Miss Vivian is to drink this immediately. We cannot allow anything improper to stain the purity of the royal bloodline. The world turned to ice. He was finally coming for the life inside me.

He wanted to personally destroy these twin dragon pulses, to burn away the last lingering evidence of our humiliating past. I looked at the black liquid, my hand instinctively dropping to cover my stomach. I could feel them. Tiny, flickering sparks of life. I have to run. I have to escape. The emperor of the empire was indeed a just and formidable ruler. When I knelt before him and begged for a thorough investigation into my father's wrongful imprisonment, he gave me his word that the case had been transferred to the high tribunal. I finally felt a weight lift from my chest.

I clung to the belief that once the truth was laid bare, the honor of the Vivian family would be restored to its former glory. Now, my only remaining weakness was the twin dragon pulses growing within me. The moment I returned from the palace, a maid entered my chambers carrying a bowl of liquid that shimmered with an eerie violet light. She called it a sacred essence supplement, claiming it was meant to bolster my strength. I wasn't a fool. I knew Arthur was incapable of such sudden mercy. I pretended to drink it with a grateful smile.

But the second the doors were closed and the windows latched, I tipped the bowl into a pot of moonlight ivy, the magic plant, known for its incredible resilience, reacted instantly. The moment the liquid touched the soil, the lush leaves shriveled, turning into brittle blackened husks as if scorched by dragon fire. My blood ran cold. It wasn't a supplement at all. It was a blood-cleansing draft, a lethal poison designed to starve my hatchlings of their magic and kill them in the womb. Gold can buy even the most depraved of souls. Using a priceless mithril hairpin as a bribe, I managed to smuggle a desperate message to Julian through a kitchen maid.

I begged him for a vial of Draft of the Living Death, a forbidden alchemical concoction that could halt a heartbeat and mimic the cold stillness of the grave, all without harming the fragile dragon sprouts in my womb. When a person dies, their debts are supposedly settled. If I were dead, Arthur would have no reason to force those cruel, poisonous drafts down my throat. At worst, he would have my body tossed into a mass grave in the desolate barrens. Once the effects wore off, I could crawl out of the dirt and vanish into the night with my children to find my mother. My only terror was Arthur's depravity. I feared that even in death, he might plunge a blade into my chest just to be certain.

The potion took hold with terrifying speed. A bone-deep chill spread through my limbs, turning my blood to slush. My mind remained agonizingly sharp. Yet I was a prisoner in my own skin, unable to move a muscle, unable to flicker an eyelid, until the heavy doors burst open. The frantic scream echoed through the stone chamber, sounding more like a celebration of my freedom than a morning of my life. I lay there, a hollow shell, waiting to see if my gambit would lead to the wilderness or the pyre. Before I heard the heavy rhythmic thud of leather boots against the stone floor, Arthur had arrived.

He seemed unable to fathom that the witch, who had once tormented him so ruthlessly, could fall so easily. As she is dead! If you are mocking me again, I swear I will bury the entire Vivian family, along with you! But I was merely a corpse now, a silent witness to his descent into hysteria. I stayed frozen, locked in the icy grip of the draft. His voice grew softer, losing its edge, until it was filled with a frantic, staggering sense of panic I had never heard before. Why was he so shaken? Wake up! Was he afraid my vengeful spirit would haunt him for the rest of his days? Wake up! Or was he simply realizing that his favorite toy had finally broken beyond repair?

Either way, I remained still, praying for the darkness of the burial grounds to come quickly. By now, he must have found the letter I left behind. In it, I wrote that I had finally reached my breaking point, that I had swallowed a lethal poison to end the humiliation, and that no one else was to blame. My only dying wish was for him to honor our old contract and return my remains to my family's ancestral lands. But his reaction after reading those words sent a fresh wave of horror through my frozen soul. Do you love Christopher that much? Do you love him so deeply that you would rather commit suicide? You want your bones returned home? Never. You will stay by my side. Even if you rot.

You will do so in my arms! The living death only lasted 12 hours. If he didn't hurry up and bury me, I was going to resurrect right in front of him. Open your eyes and look at me. Then, I felt it. A cold, trembling kiss pressed against my unresponsive lips. Time was running out. Outside, the night was dark and the wind was howling. The effects of the draft were finally beginning to wane. Arthur was on the jagged edge of a mental collapse, blinded by a grief I never expected. As the feeling returned to my limbs, my fingers brushed against the paralyzing silver needle Julian had hidden among my supplies. I waited, holding my breath, until Arthur slumped against my neck with a broken moan.

With every ounce of strength I had regained, I lunged and drove the needle deep into the pressure point at the nape of his neck. Even a crown prince of the dragon line couldn't withstand a strike so precise and unexpected. I moved like a ghost. I snatched the dragon seal, the symbol of supreme authority from his belt and threw on a nondescript maid's cloak. Keeping my head low, I slipped out of the chamber. I abandoned the memory-haunted north, seeking refuge in Emerald Harbor. The southern air was sweet and blooming with flowers, a place where I could finally fade away. The night I fled, Julian met me at the city gates, sobbing like a child.

He pressed a mountain of mana crystal cards into my hands, begging to follow. It took hours to convince him to stay until my father was freed. Julian had liquidated half of the Vivian family fortune for me. Even if I lived a life of absolute decadence, this wealth would last for lifetimes. I opened a boutique named Amber Eyes. While I loathed the dry imperial codes, I had a genius for alchemy, distilling oils and crafting the eternal youth elixirs that once drove the capital's elite into a frenzy. But in the quiet moments, the ghosts returned. I saw my father's face, then Arthur's.

I remembered the whispers of his nights with Isabella and the steam rising from the poison he sent for my children. Whenever the pain flared, I drowned it in work. My little dragons were growing and for them, I had to be strong. I found a few displaced, starving girls wandering the streets and took them in. Under my care, their hollow cheeks filled out and their fearful eyes began to spark with life. They became my loyal apprentices, learning the delicate secrets of my shop. But I wanted more for them. I used my fortune to establish a women's academy at the harbor. This world has always been cruel to women, demanding they be nothing more than ornaments or property.

I don't harbor grand illusions of saving the world. But I want these girls to master weaving, commerce, or even basic arcana. I want them to have a trade and a voice. My business flourished beyond my wildest dreams. Within six months, Amber Eyes became the ultimate obsession for the noble women of the South. People often ask me if I fear bankruptcy. Considering the academy charges no tuition, I simply offer a faint smile and say nothing. They have no idea I am the daughter of the wealthiest man in the Holy Kingdom. Besides, Julian still sends crates of mana crystals via secret caravans every month.

In his eyes, I am likely still his reckless spendthrift sister who might run out of pocket money at any moment. letters from the capital arrived occasionally through secret channels, carrying whispers of a world I had left behind. Five months ago, my father, Bernard, was finally exonerated and released. The High Tribunal had uncovered everything. It was all a web of lies spun by Christopher. The shadow that had loomed over my family's honor was finally dispelled. According to Julian, Christopher's obsession had spiraled into madness. Desperate to replace me, he had kidnapped a girl who shared a passing resemblance to me and kept her imprisoned in a secret villa, calling her by a pet name.

But his highborn wife, the daughter of the Lord Chief Justice, discovered his sordid spirit. In a fit of betrayed rage, she stormed the villa with her retainers. The innocent girl caught in the crossfire and met a horrific end at the hands of a woman scorned. Christopher, the man who pretended to love me so deeply, didn't spare a single tear for his victim. He immediately turned on the dead girl, slandering her memory to save his own skin and his political career. He underestimated a woman's wrath. His wife stripped away his mask, exposing his embezzlement and treason. Now, he rots in a lightless dungeon, his limbs broken and his mind shattered.

He is a pathetic creature, a far cry from the elegant scholar he once pretended to be. I felt no pity as I burned the letter. He earned every second of his agony. The Vivian family was unable to return to the Holy Kingdom. Julian's letters became increasingly frantic, claiming that Arthur had descended into a state of pure madness. The wedding between Arthur and Isabella never happened. Instead, in a shocking twist that paralyzed the capital, he personally escorted Isabella to the ghost tower. But I confess, a man like Arthur would never tolerate anyone who dared to touch his secrets or threaten his absolute control. Now Arthur spends his days scouring the capital for a ghost.

He searches for any trace of my existence. And at night, he stands before my empty grave evidence that I am his only true crown princess. I felt nothing but cold disdain when I read those words. He had spent his nights lost in the arms of another woman. And now, he wants to play the role of the grieving, devoted husband. It was a pathetic performance. My only focus now is the safety of my two little dragons. The most experienced midwife in the south warned me that carrying twins, especially those of the dragon line, is a treacherous path. She told me that the day of their birth would be like walking along the precipice of the underworld. It is a gamble with death.

A heavy fear has settled in my bones. I am terrified that I will never wake to see Julian become a grand archmage. And even more terrified that my children will enter this world only to find themselves motherless. A soft touch on my shoulder pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up to see Perrin standing before the counter, his usual modest expression colored by a hint of nerves. Perrin was a wandering scholar I had rescued three months ago after he collapsed outside my shop. He was handsome in a gentle, intellectual way, possessing a quiet grace that persisted despite his poverty. The young girls who worked for me loved to whisper that he was hopelessly in love with me.

I always dismissed it as childish gossip. Why would a brilliant young man with his whole life ahead of him want a woman like me? I was a widow with a swollen belly, living under a story that my husband had perished on some distant battlefield. Is something wrong, Mr. Perrin? His face flushed crimson, the heat spreading all the way to his ears. He hesitated for what felt like an eternity of courage in his soul. Miss Vivian, I have admired you for a very long time. I don't care about your past and I don't care about the rumors. I want to take care of you. If you would honor me by becoming my wife, I promise to love your children as if they were my own blood.

I froze, my mind racing to find a kind way to reject him. Before I could speak, however, a voice like a sudden arctic gale tore through the room, turning the humid southern air to ice. Elena, you intend to take my children and marry this pathetic, lowly commoner? My body turned to stone. I turned my head slowly toward the doorway. There, framed against the dying rays of the sunset, stood the man who should have been a thousand miles away. Arthur's face was a mask of sheer murderous rage. The moment Perrin finished his confession, the air in the room shattered. A suffocating pressure, the raw primal weight of a dragon's aura, exploded outward, pinning everyone to the spot.

Arthur stepped into my workshop, clad in robes of deep obsidian and gold. His eyes were twin glaciers, harboring a frost cold enough to freeze the entire southern coast. He moved with a heavy deliberate stride, and I knew instantly that the day of reckoning for my six-month escape had finally arrived. My legs turned to water. In a frantic, useless panic, I grabbed a handful of monocrystals and tried to bolt for the back exit, but it was already too late. The doorway was blocked by a wall of iron, a phalanx of paladins, their armor gleaming with an oppressive holy light. There was no escape.

His eyes turned a violent bloodshot crimson, his voice cracking with a shock that looked far too much like genuine pain. Faking your own death to deceive me? Elena, your audacity truly knows no bounds. You were the one who sent that bowl of poison. If I hadn't fled, my children would be nothing but a memory by now. Poison? I never gave such an order. Perrin stood paralyzed, the sheer weight of the crown prince's presence crushing the air from his lungs. Miss Vivian. He looked at me. You told me your husband had, that he had been marted on the northern front. Marted? Elena, are you so desperate for my death that you've already buried me in your stories? I couldn't look him in the eye.

I hadn't wished for his death. It was quite the opposite. I had missed him so much that the only way to survive the silence was to bury his memory under a lie. Your highness, please, do not distress her. She is heavily pregnant. She cannot handle such a shock. Despite the visible trembling of his hands, Perrin stepped forward, shielding me with his own body. Get out of my way! He lunged forward, reaching to seize me. But before his fingers could brush my skin, a cataclysmic pain tore through my lower body. It felt as if my buried soul was being ripped in two. It hurts. Arthur, something is wrong. The hatchlings, they're coming now.

I doubled over, my breath itching and strangled through as the world began to tilt into darkness. The crown prince, who only moments ago had looked ready to tear the world apart, instantly lost his composure. Arthur gathered me into his arms. Those hands, usually so steady when gripping a sword or signing a death warrant, were now shaking uncontrollably. Don't be afraid, Elena. I've got you. I'm taking you home. He stayed right there, pacing the halls of the manor I had bought six months ago. The healers and midwives begged him to leave, citing ancient superstitions that a crown prince's presence in a birthing chamber would bring ruin to his divine love. Arthur didn't argue.

He simply drew his sword and stood guard at the door as the hours bled into one another and the labor became unbearable. I began to sob, the tears flowing freely. Every time I cried out, the cold, ruthless leader of the dragon line, the man who made the empire tremble, found his own eyes welling with moisture. Finally, two sharp, piercing cries rang out. A boy and a girl had safely entered the world. The midwives whispered among themselves as they cleaned the infants. In all their years of delivering children, they had never seen a mother endure labor while the father stood by and cried his eyes out.

When I finally opened my eyes, the room was bathed in the golden dying light of the next day's twilight. Arthur was right there, sitting by the bed. But as soon as my mind cleared, the old bitterness flared up. Stop pretending to care! You never wanted us! The day you returned to the capital, you were so eager to have me disposed. You stayed in your chambers with Isabella for three days and three nights. They said you were lost in each other until dawn. That the priests had to change the holy water twenty times because of your pravity! I never touched Isabella. And I never, not for a single second, intended to depose you. When I returned, my father did push for an alliance.

But I stood before the entire court and declared that I already had a wife by sacred contract. He urged me to bring you to the palace immediately. I thought your heart was still full of Christopher. I was so mad with pain that I delayed the official proclamation of your title. I was a fool, Elena, but I was never unfaithful. A deep flush crept up my neck. All those stories, the whispered nights of passion, were nothing more than illusions and rumors engineered by Isabella to drive me to the edge of insanity. I've uncovered the truth. It was Isabella. She bribed the priests in the side hall to lace your medicine with a cursed powder designed to wither the dragon line.

His voice turned cold and predatory, a low vibration of pure hatred. I've stripped her of her noble name and condemned her the tower to eternal waiths for the rest of her life. Elena, thank God you were alert enough to refuse that drast. His arms began to shake violently. This powerful, terrifying crown prince looked suddenly, heartbreakingly fragile. The walls I had built around my heart crumbled in an instant. For the first time in two years, I reached out and wound my arms around his neck, leaning into him with a surge of pure, unadulterated longing. Since you never chose her, you aren't allowed to look at anyone else ever again.

Arthur, if you ever dare to betray our contract, I will take our children and vanish into the mistwood. I will hide so well that you could spend the rest of your life searching and never see my face again. What did you just say? You're willing to stay for me? He pulled back, his eyes searching mine with a look of frantic, overwhelming joy, as if he were a drowning man who had finally found the shore. I looked at his face, the face of a man so devastatingly handsome, yet currently twisted into an expression of clumsy, desperate anxiety. and I couldn't help but let out a soft laugh.

I've always had a fondness for beasts, especially a dragon like you, greedy, humble, and so utterly obsessed that once you've chosen a master, you can never be shaken off. Arthur's gaze darkened instantly. That predatory glint returned to his mismatched eyes, dancing with a renewed fire. He crushed his lips against mine, kissing me with a ferocity that suggested he wanted to grind my very soul into his own. I am your shadow. I am your guardian dragon. You will never push me away again as long as you live. His kiss was beginning to wander, growing more fervent and hungry, until it was abruptly shattered by two loud synchronized wails. The babies! Arthur, stop! I haven't even seen...

The dignified crown prince lowered his lashes in a fit of silent, brooding resentment. He looked exactly like a great dragon who had just seen his most precious treasure stolen, yet lacked the heart to retaliate. With a resigned sigh, he reached into the bassinets and scooped up the two velvet wrap bundles. Elena, even with these two little things stealing your attention, you are not allowed to reduce the love you give me by a single inch. I gave a helpless, quiet laugh. My fingertips brushed against the faint, shimmering gold scales on the hatchling's foreheads, the most sacred mark of the imperial line.

Then, to be fair, I leaned up and pressed a lingering, reassuring kiss to the lips of their jealous father. The evening breeze of Emerald Harbor drifted through the window, carrying the scent of salt and blooming flowers. On this ancient continent of miracles and strong wine, we finally had our future. And for the first time, it was enough.